


i will carry my sins on bended knees

by Timballisto



Series: clarke and lexa vs the world [15]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Clarke needs a long vacation from her life, F/F, Lexa's just along for the ride at this point, She's kind of self-destructive tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 03:54:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4591953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Timballisto/pseuds/Timballisto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>18. things you said when you were scared</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>requested by anonymous on tumblr</p>
            </blockquote>





	i will carry my sins on bended knees

“You don’t have to do this, Clarke.” Lexa said solemnly. She was dressed down today, her warpaint gone and her cloak left in her room. She walked the streets of Polis as anonymously as she was able, in a simple light brown tunic and pants.

Clarke looked at her, her eyes flat and the bags below her eyes dark and purple in the flickering light of dusk. In contrast, her clothes were dark and heavy; she still wore the jacket she’d had when she’d taken down the mountain like it was a burden. 

“I have to.” Clarke said. “Your healer said it would help. Closure.”

“He is a spiritual healer, not a physical one.” Lexa said hotly. “And you cannot burn 300 deaths into your back in some sort of penance. You will die if you attempt it.”

“I don’t want to die.” Clarke said quietly. “I had plenty of opportunities while I was wandering the woods and I didn’t. I just need… I need this.”

“Wanheda, are you prepared?” Clarke blinked, tearing her eyes away from Lexa’s face. They’d reached the square where warriors were ceremoniously marked for their kills, and the man who’d spoken stood at the ready with his brazier stoked and his irons already cherry red.

“Have you the symbol for ten?” Lexa asked. Her eyes were stone.

“Yes, Heda.” The man blinked. He turned, and pulled a hot iron from the fire with a glowing red X. “Though no warrior usually kills more than five in any battle-”

“She is taking the marks of those she killed in the mountain and by her own hand.” Lexa said. “It is more than any person could bear should you burn them all in one by one.”

Clarke opened her mouth to argue, but a harsh look from Lexa made her bite her tongue. And truly, a part of her was relieved.

Around the edges of the plaza, a few the citizens of Polis loitered. A few of them recognized the commander on sight, and whispered amongst themselves. A few of them even knew Clarke by association, if not by her face. 

Somehow, the attention was worse than the prospect of the burns. Clarke nodded jerkily, and shed her jacket and shirt. Her fingers trembled as she strode to the pole in the center of the square, Lexa a step behind her.

“I will stay with you.” Lexa said, preempting any attempt for Clarke to send her away. “There is no shame in having someone help you bear the pain of it.” Though the set of her jaw was disapproving, Lexa made no more attempts to dissuade Clarke. 

Instead, Clarke pressed her forehead against the intricately carved wood of the pole. Her fingers traced the outline of an eagle, a wolf’s head-

“Are you ready Wanheda.” The man called. He was close behind Clarke’s back, and she imagined she could already feel the heat of the brand on her shoulder.

Lexa circled around the pole, pressing her own forehead agains it. She pressed one hand on top of Clarke’s and placed the other gently on the back of Clarke’s head.

“I’m afraid.” Clarke murmured quietly.

“Of what?” Lexa said softly back.

“I’m afraid this won’t change anything.” Clarke breathed, clenching her eyes shut. “I’m afraid-”

“I am here.” Lexa said. She squeezed Clarke’s hand comfortingly, and nodded at the man standing ready behind Clarke. “So what have you to fear?”

Clarke’s answering chuckle was swallowed by a choked off scream as the poker was thrust against the skin of her shoulder.

Lexa was the commander of armies, the uniter of clans- but there was little she could do against Clarke’s fear of herself.

And that burned hotter than any brand.


End file.
